


Kindness for a Friend

by junietuesday25



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Pre-Calamity (Legend of Zelda), Queer Characters, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27909970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junietuesday25/pseuds/junietuesday25
Summary: Zelda's 17th birthday is coming up, and the Champions have a plan to celebrate it.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Kindness for a Friend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maddy_Grace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maddy_Grace/gifts).



> hi hi hi!!!! this was written for the botw writers and such server's gift exchange, my prompt was "fluffy queer friend groups" so here we are!! im actually really proud of this, maybe i'll make a sequel some day? who knows, but i hope you enjoy!

“No. Not a chance.”

The Champions sit together in one of Hyrule Castle’s many parlors, a sheet of paper spread on the coffee table between them. Zelda’s in her study being supervised by one of her multitude of guards, leaving the five of them the perfect opportunity to _plan._

“Come on,” says Daruk, punching his hand. He’s sitting on the floor, because the poor, Hylian furniture would snap under his weight. Fanciness aside, in Goron City, no builder with an ounce of self-respect would stand for such weak craftsmanship. “She deserves something nice!”

“And you can take care of it on your own,” says Revali, feathers ruffling. It’s a miracle that they even managed to get him here in the first place—well, a miracle that they’d actually convinced him that this was a strategic meeting for some Champion affair or another. “Doesn’t she have a whole castle full of people whose _jobs_ it is to—”

“We all know that King Rhoam ordered them not to,” says Mipha, frowning. If all of the Champions can agree on one thing, it’s that each of them would gladly sic at _least_ a bokoblin on the man for everything he puts Zelda through. “It’s a kindness for a friend! Surely you can understand that.”

Revali clicks his beak with a scowl. “I should be spending my time training with Medoh.”

“There’s only so much training you can do,” Urbosa says, crossing her arms. Normally, she’s all for honing your skills to perfection, but Revali truly takes it to the extreme. “You act standoffish, but this would mean so much to Zelda, after all of her _own_ training.”

Revali stands up; the little ottoman he’d been sitting on scrapes against the stone floor.

“I’ll find something to gift her,” Revali says flatly. “Happy?”

Link’s movements are quick. “But our plan—”

“Don’t worry,” Urbosa whispers. “I’ve got this.”

She raises her voice. “Oh, but masterful Revali!” she pleads. “We need your superior skills to help put together this celebration! We couldn’t do it without your prowess at, ah—your prowess. Please just consider it?”

“It won’t work,” Link signs under the table, and his hands shake with his snickering. “That’s so transparent—”

Revali turns back around, sighing dramatically. “I _suppose_ I’ll deign to assist. But only because you asked so nicely.”

Mipha coughs, tailfin swaying up and down. “Wonderful!” she says, voice suspiciously bright. “We were thinking of holding the celebration at Zora’s Domain…”

* * *

Mipha leaps out of the water and lands with a light click on the stone of the Domain.

And is immediately tackled to the ground by a red, enthusiastically shrieking blur.

“Miphamiphamipha!!”

“I missed you too.” Mipha laughs, and gently pushes Sidon away so they can get to their feet. “I’m sorry that we can’t play right now, but I’m busy at the moment.”

Sidon frowns, moving closer. Mipha can’t blame him for latching onto her—even before Mipha was appointed the pilot of Vah Ruta, when she was always home, Sidon would follow her around the Domain no matter how boring or complex her royal duties were. Now that Mipha has much less time to stay, it’s only natural that Sidon is more attached during the moments they do have together. Well, when he’s not sneaking off to fight Lynels and getting into about that much trouble.

“It’s okay,” Mipha consoles. “Come, you can accompany me to see Father.”

Around them, citizens stare at the royalty passing through, but Mipha has a mission. She ignores the Zora around them, clutching Sidon’s hand tighter so he won’t try to wander and drag her off to explore, and enters the palace, moving directly to the throne room.

The sky is bright and clear today, and the sun’s beams sparkle on the luminous stone architecture through the wide open windows—just as Mipha remembers from years of attending hearings with the commoners. King Dorephan is in the middle of a sentence to one of the guards, but he looks up at the tapping of nails on the glassy floor.

“My dear daughter!” Father booms, shifting in his throne. Mipha quickly moves forward.

“Please don’t strain yourself!” she says. “You can stay sitting.”

“These royal genes aren’t doing me any favors,” Father says, settling back. “Would it be too much to hope that you’ve returned for a good while?”

“Sorry,” Mipha says. “I just needed to ask a favor.”

Father waves her on. “Anything.”

“Well, I was hoping that we could reserve one of the parlors in our palace for a celebration,” Mipha says. “It’s Zelda’s birthday next month, and I was hoping to invite the other Champions for a small ceremony.”

“You mean Link?!” Sidon grabs Mipha’s arm. “I haven’t seen him in forever!”

“Yes, Link,” Mipha says, smiling. “He’s been busy with knighthood, of course, but you’ll be able to see him at the party.”

“A party?” asks Father, folding his hands. “Of course. That’s no issue. Shall I prepare the chefs—?”

“No, but thank you,” says Mipha. “Link has it taken care of…”

* * *

“You’re back!”

Aria jumps to her feet, discarding what appears to be schoolwork on the wooden table in front of her and running up to Link before they can even shut the door to the house behind them. She hugs them tight, but after a few moments Link reluctantly pulls away.

Aria’s grown a lot since before Link moved permanently into Central Hyrule. Before, even despite Link’s…clear lack of height, compared to the Hylians their age in Castle Town, Aria had only reached up to their chest—but now, she’s only about an inch or two off from being at their eye level.

“I can’t stay long,” Link says. Their home is somewhat smaller than they remember—this little house in Hateno Village can’t possibly compare to months of living in Hyrule Castle—but it’s just as warm and safe as it’s always been. “It’s not my leave yet. But you can help me with this project.”

Aria perks up at that, eyes going wide.

“A top-secret royal project?” Aria whispers, like there’s anyone to hear them here. “Something to help kill Ganon?”

“Not quite,” Link tells her, moving toward the kitchen and rolling up his sleeves. “We’re gonna bake a cake.”

“…A cake?” Aria frowns, trailing behind. “Really?”

Link nods, reaching into the cupboard and pulling out a sack of flour. “It’s for Zelda’s—the Princess’s birthday.” They grin. “I can tell her that you helped.”

“Shut up!” Aria says quickly, a blush spreading across her face. “You can tell her whatever, I don’t care.”

“If you say so,” Link says, laughing. “I’m telling you, she’s not as cool as you make her out to be.”

“She’s the _Princess._ ” Aria’s eyes are distant and dreaming—Link doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this. “She’s the coolest person in the whole land.”

“I really should tell her you said that,” Link says, turning toward the shelves to grab a few bowls. “Now, are you in?”

“Yeah!” Aria says, smiling mischievously—it’s not really such a secret project, but Aria seems so swept up in the intrigue that Link can’t burst her bubble. “Can I come to the party?”

“Sure,” Link says. “Well, if you don’t mind Revali coming. I know you don’t like him, but he’d _better_ be there…”

* * *

Revali touches down on the main northern landing of Rito Village in a swirl of rushing winds—because while he could simply land normally, why forsake the drama?

The town is alive and bustling at this time of the afternoon; the wooden bridges and air above are positively swarming with prime time shoppers, fledgelings traveling to and from afternoon activities, and guards rotating positions. Revali loves his home dearly, but right now he’d _much_ prefer to be at the Flight Range, peaceful and solitary as it is.

But, he might as well get his portion of Zelda’s gift out of the way now. If nothing else, Revali excels at everything he does—as such, he’ll have to think of something spectacular to showcase at her party.

…Fireworks!

The epiphany comes to him in a flash. Rito Village not only has the best technique for crafting bomb arrows, but Rito fletchers have also created a method to _color_ the explosions. A light show would bring Zelda joy, intrigue her scientific mind— _and_ Revali could show off his archery skills in the process.

With a concrete goal in mind, Revali sets off for the Obsidian Talon, the best arrow shop in town.

“Revali!” Khimia, the store owner, grins at him from behind the counter. “I haven’t seen you in too long! Your purchases alone are practically half our sales.”

“Well, you do have the highest quality arrows,” Revali says, matter-of-fact. 

“My son will be glad to hear that,” says Khimia, shooting Revali a grin. “He never stops talking about you—keeps asking if you’ve returned from Champion business.”

“That’s…flattering,” Revali says uncertainly. Normally it would be flattering, but her son is a mediocre kisser at best, incredibly clingy, and a hopeless romantic—the most annoying sort of person in Revali’s eyes. One excursion doesn’t equal a relationship, when Revali has much more important matters to attend to and doesn’t even feel romantic attraction in the first place. He steers the conversation to his real purpose: “How many colors of bomb arrows do you have?”

“Every color of the rainbow and then some,” Khimia says proudly. “I’ve just gotten enough materials in to make a full batch of each.”

“Perfect,” says Revali. “How much for three of each?”

“…Normally it’d be closer to one fifty,” Khimia admits. “But I’m feeling generous! After all you’ve done for our store, you can have them for seventy-five rupees.”

Despite the hefty discount, Revali winces at the price tag. Three of all nine colors equals twenty-seven arrows in all—not even enough to fill a quiver. Seventy-five rupees would normally be enough for just about that many arrows; Zelda had better thank him for this expense when she has enough rupees to fill his entire house with gold.

Maybe he should get Urbosa to pay. After all, she was the one who dragged him into this…

* * *

“No, no… Clearly she would like the sapphire earrings better. Or would she?”

Urbosa leans over a display case at Starlight Memories, debating between the different types of jewelry. This set of earrings resembles the droplets from those Sheikah Guidance Stones, but this necklace’s charm is just the same shape as a Silent Princess. And—

“Lady Urbosa, if I may,” offers Erule, one of Urbosa’s guards. “I believe the Princess would love whatever gift you gave her. She doesn’t seem to be the type to be overly fussed about her jewelry.”

“Oh, you’re _right!_ ” Urbosa says, spinning around. She marches out of the shop, Erule scrambling behind. Urbosa continues without missing a beat as she weaves through the crowded street—unnecessarily, of course, for each citizen moves aside for their Chief. “I’ve been a fool! And this is my little bird’s seventeenth, too—that’s the coming of age for Hylians! I should have looked for a weapon to start with!”

 _Queen_ Zelda loved jewelry, not her daughter. Urbosa reminds herself once again that her long-lost love is just that—lost. But her little bird remains, and Urbosa will ensure that young Zelda will have the most perfect birthday celebration.

“Do Hylians fight with scimitars?” Erule asks, admirably keeping up with Urbosa’s train of thought. “I thought they all used swords.”

“Well, swords aren’t too different from scimitars,” Urbosa says. “But that’s irrelevant, because I will purchase a bow for her.”

“A bow?” says Erule, as Urbosa strides into Golden Sunbeams, the supplier for the Gerudo military’s archery unit. Even their simple, standard Golden Bows have the straightest shots in all of Hyrule—one of their elite products would be a perfect gift for Zelda.

“Yes, a bow,” Urbosa says, inspecting each sparkling, sturdy bow hanging on the wall. Normally, she would give the shop owner, Inuke, a greeting, but politeness is forgotten in favor of ensuring her little bird’s gift was perfect. “Of course, every young vai deserves a weapon of her own, and while Zelda may not quite be adept with melee weapons, she’s proficient enough at archery. Her father _can’t_ protest, seeing as the legends of Zelda all have the princess wielding a sacred bow.”

With careful hands, Urbosa picks up an ivory-white bow with studs of topaz embedded into the limbs. In fact, the gemstones look incredibly similar to Ancient Cores.

“Do you have this bow in a smaller size?” Urbosa asks Inuke, making mental calculations. “For a Hylian vai?”

“I can craft one,” Inuke says. “When do you need it by, Chief Urbosa?”

“For Princess Zelda’s birthday,” Urbosa says. “If you need more topaz, I can ask Daruk of the Gorons for assistance…”

* * *

“Rogbo, you talk to a lot of Hylians, don’t you?” Daruk asks his husband loudly, as he walks in the entrance to their house. Sure enough, Rogbo is in the forge, shaping something small and glowing in the evening light—not that it ever gets as dark on Death Mountain as other places in Hyrule do at night, thanks to the radiance of eternal lava.

Rogbo makes a “mm?” noise. Daruk knows by now that this is a sign of his husband’s attention.

“The tiny princess’s birthday is soon,” Daruk explains. “I don’t know what sort of things Hylians want. They don’t like rocks, and that’s the best kind of gift there is!”

“Gems?” Rogbo suggests.

“Maybe,” says Daruk, unconvinced. Hylians do like shiny things. But Zelda has more than enough gems at the Castle—she wears them at every fancy schmancy Hylian function. “I can—wait!”

Daruk has a sudden realization, and wonders how it didn’t occur to him sooner.

“Where do you buy all of your tools?” Daruk asks. “I can buy a set for Zelda!”

It’s perfect! She loves tinkering with all that ancient technology like Rudania, but she always has to borrow equipment from the Sheikah scientists—even in her study, she uses tools snuck away from the research sites. Zelda will love a set of her own!

“The…Got Iron tool shop,” Rogbo says with a cringe. Daruk doesn’t see what his husband has against puns—Daruk can appreciate any pun, even if it’s a little bit forced—but that’s just one of his little quirks.

“Thanks a lot!”

Daruk doesn’t wait for Rogbo to respond, already rolling out the door. Got Iron ( _“We’ve always got iron in!”_ ) always closes early because the old talus running it goes to bed only an hour after sunset, so Daruk will have to be fast—the journey to Goron City already ate up most of today’s daylight, and tomorrow the Champions are setting off on an expedition to investigate the Hinox activity up in Akkala.

Daruk lands on his feet at the entrance of the tool shop, walking inside to see the racks and racks of everything from hammers to drillshafts—

And right on the wall, shining red like it was meant to be, sits a little box with a handle, the label listing off screwdrivers, pliers, and all those other fiddly tools that Daruk has never used before, being a warrior first and foremost. 

“Daruk!” the shop owner, Burmog, says brightly. “Yura was just in this morning, she was bemoaning how she can barely stand being alone at home—I don’t know how you deal with two husbands, one is enough for me.”

“I’ll be glad to come back once we’ve pounded Calamity Ganon to rubble,” Daruk says. He puts the toolbox on the counter. “How much is this?”

“Never took you for the crafty type,” Burmog says. “These are Hylian-sized tools.”

“It’s a gift for the tiny princess,” Daruk explains. “She loves her ancient tech. If only those Guardians didn’t look so terrifying…”

* * *

“Terrifying? Monstrous? How dare you! These are a marvel of Sheikah technology the likes of which we could only _hope_ to understand—”

Link shoots Daruk a look, because Zelda’s chattering on and on and on now, and as much as Link has grown to appreciate Zelda after she stopped being so—well, so much of a jerk—there are some things they still can’t stay attentive through. Such as Zelda infodumping about ancient technology. Despite the fact that Link knows that they often ramble in a similar manner.

“All I said was that there’s legends of ancient spider-monsters!” Daruk defends himself. “And more legends of robots with glowing beams!”

“Beamos,” Link signs. “She’s been researching so many myths trying to piece together information about them and how they could relate to Guardians. I swear we could give her a pile of random ancient parts for her birthday and she’d be happy—”

“I _would_ be happy,” Zelda cuts in, and both Link and Daruk startle at the realization that Zelda was paying attention to their conversation, “but I hope you’d put more effort into my birthday gift than that.”

At that, Link can’t help a grin. Oh, Zelda has no idea…

“Besides,” Zelda says. Her expression falls. “My father said that I will travel up to the Spring of Wisdom on my seventeenth birthday, so it doesn’t matter, in the end.”

“What?” Link’s movements are sharp, eyes wide. “I never heard anything from the King!”

“I’m sure he’ll tell you soon,” Zelda says, sighing. “But it’s all right. Previous years’ feasts should more than make up for one missed occasion. Now, then.” She tries to smile, turning back to Ancient Core on the table in front of her. “I’m _so_ close to figuring out what’s powering these cores…”

As Zelda becomes engrossed in her research once again, Link gestures for Daruk to step away with them.

“We’ll have to change our plan,” Link signs quickly. “Maybe we can hold the party a day or two before her actual birthday?”

“We’ll tell the others,” Daruk agrees, scratching his chin. “Good thing we know now, little guy. That could’ve been a mess…”

* * *

“You two are a bit of a mess.”

“SHE is a mess!” Revali snaps, pointing at Mipha. “Why do you need a million different forks and knives for one meal?!”

Zelda, hearing yelling across the wall of her room in the inn, came to investigate whatever the commotion between Revali and Mipha was about. Revali, she’s unsurprised by—he holds no reservations about creating scenes—but Mipha’s never been one to start screaming when she’s mad.

“It’s being proper!” Mipha says. “It’s not really so complicated to remember them all!”

“We Rito don’t concern ourselves with such frivolities as identical utensils with different uses!”

“You eat with your _hands._ That’s incredibly unsanitary.”

“Unlike _your_ filthy scales,” Revali huffs, “our feathers are kept perfectly clean through meticulous routine preening. Why bother with utensils when hands work perfectly well?”

Revali’s feathers are fluffed high, and Mipha’s fins are flared—both are their respective species’ bodily instincts activated during battle for intimidation purposes. They’re both glaring daggers at each other from where they stand across the room from each other, like their words need the same range to be wielded as bows and spears. Surely this must be a friendly argument? Mipha is always kind to everyone, and Revali always seemed the least snappish to Mipha out of all of them.

“Is this really worth waking up all the other patrons?” Zelda attempts.

_“Yes!”_

“He uses _spoons_ with his forks!” Mipha screeches. “Why would you use spoons for anything but soup?”

“Because when you must use utensils, spoons help you scoop things up!” Revali says hotly. “Why do Zora use forks to eat rice? How does it not all fall off?”

“Because rice is sticky enough to stay together,” Mipha says like it’s obvious. “What’s wrong with your rice?”

“Rice isn’t that sticky unless you cook it with far too much water. _Your_ rice is messed—”

“Have you considered that there are two different strains of rice in Hyrule?” Zelda interrupts loudly. At this rate they’re going to wake up the entire inn—the Champions have already been kicked out of enough places, even despite their high status. “Eastern rice is stickier, good for things like sushi and rice balls that can be held in your hand, and western rice is more dry, usually paired with but separated from meat or other companions and needing to be plated.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Revali says, with that put-upon haughty air he uses whenever he knows he’s wrong but doesn’t want to admit it. “Rice is rice.”

“It scientifically is not,” says Zelda. “We have an early start tomorrow—please go to bed before everyone in the building gathers to investigate your yelling.”

* * *

“I think it would be best if everyone gathers beforehand and—”

“Good morning!”

Mipha yelps, cutting herself off, and falls out of her seat; Revali’s feathers poof all the way up at the sound of Zelda’s voice. 

Only through months and months of practice does Link manage to keep a stoic expression as Mipha climbs back into her seat, face flushed. Urbosa tries desperately not to snicker—Daruk has no such reservations, laughing deep and loud.

Zelda frowns with an ever-so-slight tilt of her head. She just exited the stable for the morning, expecting to have breakfast with everyone else as normal before continuing their journey to Lurelin. Was her arrival really so startling?

“Are you all okay?” Zelda asks.

No one responds. They don’t even move save for staring across the cooking pot at one another with wide eyes. 

Urbosa sighs.

She has to take over to explain for the group, because of course she does. Is she truly the only one who can keep her head under any less pressure than the threat of death? She would place her life in the hands of each of these Champions beside her, without hesitation—she would contemplate much longer before trusting any of them to pull off a prank successfully.

“We were talking about our Divine Beasts,” Urbosa lies easily. “Revali was giving me a few tips on aiming Naboris’s lightning.”

“Ah, yes,” Revali butts in—his haughty tone contrasts with the way he’s still trying to smooth his feathers down. “Because you’re just that awful of a shot.”

“It’s almost the Feast of the Seven,” Urbosa says, deadpan. “I should roast you whole for our main dish.”

Revali squawks indignantly. Urbosa stares him down.

“We should get going,” Link signs, standing up—the most dutiful of all of them. “If we let that band of lizalfos get any closer to shore…”

“I still don’t see why they needed all of us,” Revali says, and everyone braces themselves for another bout of bragging. Which is why it’s a surprise when he continues, “Urbosa could just strike them all down with lightning with no trouble, and Mipha is the best swimmer of the Zora even regardless of her species’ affinity with water.”

There’s a silence. Urbosa grins.

“Were those compliments that came out of your beak?” she says.

Revali’s feathers ruffle even higher than they’d been before. “It’s just a scientific fact that water conducts electricity! And everyone knows Zoras are fast swimmers! I didn’t finish—Daruk would sink like a rock and I wouldn’t rescue him for a mountain made of gold—”

* * *

“So then I shall go, and make my way up the mountain.”

Zelda’s eyes are so sad, when she turns back to look at Link. Of course the King had to send them on this mission _on_ Zelda’s birthday instead of giving her time to celebrate the occasion—but if there’s one good thing to come out of this journey, it’s that it takes them directly on the path to Zora’s Domain.

“That’s still tomorrow,” Link reassures her. “The day after, actually, factoring in travel time.” Link tries to smile, for Zelda’s sake. It’s easier when she thinks about the group that will be waiting in Zora’s Domain tomorrow. “I was actually hoping to stop by Zora’s Domain, first. I—I have to pick up a sword for my father! That he left with the blacksmiths! Because he’s stationed at Fort Hateno now, and the Domain is closer than Castle Town.”

The lie is stilted and made too obvious by the way her hands flutter and stumble, but Zelda doesn’t call her out on it. Either she actually buys it—unlikely—or she’s that desperate for an excuse to delay their trip.

“Of course,” says Zelda, sounding relieved. “We’ll make a detour there before climbing Mt. Lanayru.”

The next morning, Link is forcefully unsuspicious as they set off on horseback once again in the direction of Zora’s Domain. They’re making good time, thankfully—since Zelda’s finally figured out how to actually be nice to her horse, they should have a good long time to celebrate her birthday before they have to leave for Mt. Lanayru.

Zora’s Domain is bright and sparkling in the afternoon light when Link and Zelda finally cross the Great Zora Bridge. Link would love to properly admire the place that was practically her second childhood home, after so many years without a chance to visit, but today her quest is more important. They can stop by Zora’s Domain again on the way back from Mt. Lanayru—right now, Link leads Zelda through the plaza and towards the towering fish statue atop the palace that overlooks the Domain.

“The blacksmith is that way, isn’t it?” Zelda asks. “Why are we—”

“I was hoping to pay Mipha a quick visit,” Link signs quickly, marching forward as she speaks. “She, um, wanted to see me…? Sidon and the other kids wanted to say hi!”

“Inside the palace?” Zelda says, trailing behind regardless of her reservations. She has her thinking face on—Link had better get a move on before Zelda becomes too suspicious. “They would always meet you outside, before.”

“Just come on,” Link signs. “We don’t want to make Mipha wait.”

That spurs Zelda on—despite her soft demeanor, all of the Champions know just how scary Mipha can be. Zelda is quiet as they pass through the halls of Domain’s palace, and if she notices the way Link gains a skip in her step as they move closer and closer to their destination, then Zelda says nothing.

“Shh!” a voice hisses through the door of the parlor, and Link winces at how clearly she can hear everyone scrambling around inside.

“What?” Zelda says, frowning. “Did I hear that?”

Link doesn’t give her time to wonder. She pushes open the door, and Zelda goes silent, raising a hand to her mouth.

“SURPRISE!”

Confetti is thrown up into the air, and as it flutters to the ground, there are cheers from the group in the parlor. Daruk, Urbosa, Mipha, and even Revali are all smiling, and Link gently nudges Zelda forward. She takes a step to balance herself, and no more.

Banners are strung on every surface, in all colors of the rainbow. A luminous stone table is piled high with all types of dishes, with a towering fruitcake as the centerpiece. In the corner of the room is a whole stack of wrapped boxes, many tied with ribbons.

“What is this?” Zelda says through her hands. Her voice is choked. “You didn’t—”

Urbosa moves forward to hug Zelda tight.

“It’s your seventeenth birthday, little bird,” says Urbosa softly. “Of course we did.”

“I had no idea,” Zelda says, a wide smile on her face despite her wet eyes. “How long were you planning this?”

“Daruk had the idea a month or so ago,” Mipha says. “So we decided to get together and—”

“I got your brother!”

A commotion from the doorway, and Aria stumbles in, dragging Sidon into the room behind her. Sidon’s headfin is flapping back and forth wildly, and his teeth gleam sharp in the light.

“You’re welcome for getting him back,” she says sharply. “I had to go _all_ over the Domain and —eep!”

All of a sudden Aria seems to notice Zelda’s presence. She squeaks, going red, and lets go of Sidon’s arm—he seizes the opportunity and attempts to run off again, but Mipha catches him and holds his hand tight.

“Thank you for finding him,” Mipha tells her. Aria blushes even harder.

“ _Anyways,_ ” Link signs, making her movements wide. She turns toward Zelda. “We made you a fruitcake. And you have presents.”

“ _Presents,_ ” Zelda says, breathless. “I can’t thank you all enough.”

When Zelda blows out her birthday candles, she wishes for a million more days just like this.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) everyone in botw is queer, no i dont take criticism <3
> 
> 2) my name for link's sister came from me just trying to smush together the sounds of aryll (wind waker link's sister) and ilia (the girl in twilight princess who i always thought was link's sister until my friend told me she actually isnt???)
> 
> 3) i will die on the hill of gorons calling their married partners husbands regardless of gender. its like "brother" even if youre not a dude they call you that
> 
> 4) the mipha and revali argument is based on a fight we had in the server. revali is right as always. king <3


End file.
